Tida Village
by Houyoku
Summary: Shrouded in the webs of time and desertion. Listen as the young bard spins his song into one of tragedy, the tale that tells of a village who was forsaken. The forlorn gates that would never welcome their lost caravan.


****

Tida Village

By Becki ^_^

(C) Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles

Idea copyrighted to Nintendo and Square Enix

The warmth of the fire, the pallid strumming of the lyre. Like a soft rain after a hot summer's day. A voice, a voice which beckons further, a voice lyrical and melodic in tale.

"Come, gentle traveler and hear my tale of great tragedy." The clavat minstrel who sits upon the wooden table set with the emptied iron mugs. A young blond haired boy owning a rounded hat with a feather's plume. "Come and listen to the unfortunate and be glad of what you possess. Never has there been more ironic a tale, more hope in the faithful. My song which ends in woe, but the legend that lives on in death. Will you allow me to share such a story?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day had come.

It had finally arrived.

With a deep sigh upon light lips did she stare into the broad skies and white clouds. Neither did the sun shine brighter nor the flowers smell sweeter any other day than this. The petals lifted, tickling her bare legs, rising and falling in the laughter of the wind.

In her hand was an unfinished garland of flowers. Flowers which ranged from lavender to buttercup yellow. Her hands were rough with work, nails dirty and scratched. But, her smile was more noticeable of these traits.

She fell to the ground laying her head in the window of flowers. Her bright green eyes and tousled strands of blond hair shielding her face from the cool breeze. A young clavat girl from a family of poor merchants. She lifted her hands and finished weaving the stalks from the flowers on her garland, hands trembling with elation.

A year had finally passed. She was surprised, it had seemed like many years had passed. With worry and loneliness, Lila, daughter of Lucas and Sarah was ready to greet her brother home. 

With a final, girlish sigh, she sat up and placed the crown of flowers upon her head. She loved being a child, although she was at her thirteenth year, she still savored the immaturity. Smoothing her tunic and brushing off a clip of grass, she stared down the hill towards the village.

What a beautiful village it was. Clothed in green and scented with almost everything one could think off. The lilty children played along the banks of the free running creek, the selkies roamed the streets with their cool, detached demeanor. 

The Festival for Myrrh was being prepared for. Knowing that she would be scolded, she picked herself up and started to run down the field. The bright blue crystal was easily seen by her silent eyes, bright and shining in the sun.

Nobody had noticed though.. it was dulling..

Lila went through the crowded halls and looked around the decorations. She stopped still by the smithy to greet the neighbors.

"Good morning mister Eric!" She said cheerfully through the window. The man turned around, his dirty hands clenching his supplies. His face was covered with gray from work, and he wiped his brow with a cloth.

"'Morning Lila. You seem rather excited today." He dropped his chisel an came over, the scent of smoke on his clothing.

"Yes, sir. Have you finished the sign?" She asked hopefully. He grinned guiltily.

"I have, but I must confess carpentry is not my strong suit." He ducked down under the counter and retrieved a long wooden sign. Printed neatly on the surface in black letters read;

_'Today the Caravan returns! Let us greet them with cheer!' _Lila smiled with delight.

"Thank you for taking your time to do this!" The blacksmith nodded.

"It was not a problem. Didn't take me terribly long to make it, and consider it a gift from me." He winked as she was about to open her pouch for gil.

"Th-thank you!" She said with an honest, appreciative tone.

"I'll have it erected by noon." He promised. "You should report to your mother, she was looking for you earlier.

"I will! Again, thank you!" She waved a hand and continued along the stone path to her house. 

The stalls were already set up, baskets of fruit and other foods ready to sell. The merchants made quite a bit of money at both times when the caravan leaves and comes. Lila surveyed the array of fruits and vegetables, wrinkling her nose as she got to the barrel of fish.

With a sideways glance, she saw her sword and shield leaning against the door frame of her home. She stared at it distantly, as if she expected it to suddenly get up and walk away. It reminded her of the hours of practice she put into fencing, the times she had worked herself to get better. One day, she would be selected for the caravan, she could fight alongside her brother and seek the Myrrh trees.

This was her only wish. She could not stay young forever.

"Lila! Where on earth have you been?" Lila turned to face the annoyed face of her mother. Sarah held a basket of rainbow grapes, wet with the drops of water from washing. 

"I've.. just been around." Lila said playfully. "Well, I'm here now, so what do you want me to do?" Her mother dropped the basket close to the gourd potatoes and wiped her hands noisily against each other.

"First of all, you can help set up. I have a few barrels of water, ignore those, they're to heavy for you to lift anyway, just get the basket of striped apples and set them near the star carrots. I am going to go find your father, stay here and watch the stands. Stop fiddling, you're well grown up and I have to depend on you for this."

"Yes, mother." 

...:

:....

........:

She never saw the sun again.

It was.. so cold. The tattered blanket closed around her shoulders as she looked out the cracked window. The clouds were always bleak, always covering the sky. The village kept the decorations up, they knew that the caravan would come. This year, they must have run a bit late.

Lila slipped a look outside. The sign was hung with care by the steps leading to a fading crystal.

_No._ She thought firmly. _No_. It was not fading. It would be as bright as the sun when her brother returned. But, she was afraid to go outside. She was afraid that she would not feel the sun's warmth.

But her mother was not as afraid. Sick of Lila sitting and staring out of the window, she sent her outside to play. Reluctantly she did so, only to feel the slapping sting of the cold as soon as she stepped outside. She turned to see the sky misted over, but as she squinted to see further, she saw bright patches of blue further off, away from the village. It was.. eerie.

She stumbled down the streets, hoping to go to her place in the field of flowers. She still had the thin blanket wrapped about her, tighter and tighter against her body as she went on. She could almost no longer feel her feet. As she reached the side of the village, she saw the fields ahead. The flowers were shaded with gray, but to her delight, she did see patches of sunshine.

But when she tried to run towards them, some unseen force shoved her back. 

_What?!_ She tried again. There was a violent push preceded by a spark. Stumbling to her feet, she breathed in deeply. There was a strange mist by her legs. Her eyes widened.

"Mother! Father! Mister Eric!" She flew down the street, her voice loud. Her father who had been talking to the blacksmith turned to her sharply, completely startled.

"Lila! In the name of Myrrh, stop this racket!" He ordered solemnly. Ever since that day the caravan was supposed to come, everybody's spirits had been low. But their hopes were high, they waited patiently.

"F-father! Please, there's something strange outside of town!" She begged him, throwing a glance to Eric.

"Strange?" The blacksmith frowned, turning his head towards where she had come from.

"It's.. like a mist! Only, liquid.. almost.." She said, trying to describe it. "It's not natural, please do something about it!"

"Calm down, Lila." Lucas said gently. "Lila, go back to your mother, mister Eric and I will see what's going on." She bit her lip.

"Yessir." She said glumly. And with that she bolted down the streets to warn her mother. Her breaths were deep and hurt as she took them in and out. The blanket around her seemed to do almost nothing for the cold. With each step, cold seemed to overtake her. Her legs were numb and eventually she couldn't feel them, even as she ran.

She looked around the court and shivered, lips trembling. There was nobody in sight. She looked up at the crystal which towered over her. Her reflection in the clear blue surface was hard to see, the inner light it once had waning. But she refused to accept it.

She ran to her front steps, making loud clattering noises as she went. Throwing open the door, she looked into the pale face of her mother by the window.

"Mother! There's something strange outside of town!" Sarah's eyes were blank.

"Has the caravan come?"

"No, mother. And the crystal--"

"It will come."

"Yes, mother. But--"

"Silence, child. Sit and eat. There is nothing to worry about." She said gesturing to the chair beside her. She stood up and began to prepare some food. Lila shivered again and crossed her arms.

"Yes.." She felt so tired suddenly. So willing to sleep, willing to not care..

...:

:....

........:

When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was the great silence. The second thing, was the whiteness. She could see nothing. At first she thought that maybe there was a bright light, but when she closed her eyes and opened them again, she still could not see. When she raised her hand, she could just barely see the outline of her fingers.

And something thick was around her wrists and ankles. Something.. solid yet.. gaseous..

She pulled back in horror, but the white was all around her.

_What is this..?_ She stumbled back behind the chair she was sitting in, and tried to see. Knowing her home well, she groped around for the door. Her fingers trailed against the wall. The shelf. The door. Once she came outside, it was clearer, but still murky with white at waist level. Looking above she could see the welcome sign for the Caravan, and the gray crystal.

...Gray..

Stumbling forward, she climbed up the steps on her hands and feet and touched the crystal. It was as cold as ice. The surface cracked at her lightest touch. Appalled, she snapped back and tried to think, but her mind would not register any thoughts.

Trying to get out of the strange white mist at her waist, she tried to look for someone, anyone. Surely they had not left her alone?

But there were people. People outside on the streets, with gifts in their hands awaiting the caravan. They all looked like they were sleeping. Without the protection of the crystal, they were vulnerable to this..

Miasma.

Her mind raced as she came towards the fencing outside the village. 

"Why are you so nervous..?" The sudden voice nearly killed her of fright, but when she recovered, she took a deep breath. A little selkie child sat at the fence. His hair was platinum blonde, eyes gray. Those eyes which stared into her distantly.

"What's happening?" Lila asked nervously. The child smiled a broken smile.

"Nothing.. nothing.. everybody's just sleeping. The caravan will come. Momma told me, the caravan will come. There is nothing to worry about." 

"Nothing.." Lila said bitterly. "Nothing."

"Yes. Nobody's leaving. We know they will come. It is nothing, don't you agree?" But Lila could hear no more. She ran down the side of the fencing, through the open gates. The ground was barren and cold. The air was chilly and closed down on her. The stones cut her boots as she ran, her hair caught the trees she ran passed.

This was the oldest part of town. At the end, she remembered there was an open circle where the children of all kinds played. The short games of chase and hide and seek. She remembered the childhood days with her brother, the times she enjoyed so much. Where she was carefree, at the edge of carelessness. It all looked the same.. only darker. More menacing.

The stones scattered where she walked, the dry leaves tumbled. How much time could have passed? She could sense the miasma at her heels. Tears pooled in the gentle eyes she had, spilled over her cold face, drying as she ran. They stung. 

But as she was blind with the stinging tears, her foot caught on a horizontal slab of stone. Unable to catch herself, she fell.

Her hands were ripped and red with the rough earth as she tried to brace her fall. Her forehead caught the ground, and she felt pain there too. With a high wince, she touched her palm, only to smear blood over her arm. She tried to get up, but something caught her attention first. ....what..?

A sprout came from the hard ground. An iridescent leaf upon a bright green stem. The leaf was curled in ward, like a pair of small, shining wings. It.. couldn't be..?

She had remembered seeing these rare trees.. the trees that supplied the necessary element in pictures of books. A drop of dew fell from the leaf, the liquid fell slowly in front of her eyes, and splattered on the ground. The miasma around her backed off.

A Myrrh tree.

She got up, shaking with excitement.

"Mother, father!" She made her way down, shouting excitedly.

"Mister Eric! Father!" She called again. The only answers she got back were the echoes of her own voice. She called again, and looked around, perhaps expecting someone to awake and hear her calls. The elation died slowly. She looked around. Only white and darkness remained. 

"M..mother.. brother.." She said slower and softer. "Brother.. why.. don't you come..?" She lowered her head, the strands of hair falling, covering her eyes.

"The tree.. we're saved..." Silence. "Where are you...?" 

Her call was never answered. The miasma slowly took her. She did not run.

But they never came back.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The tree which grew from their hopes grew and flourished, as did their legend of great loss. Their bleak fate turned willfully into tale, one that would never be lost. And as the miasma turns and swirls, the tree still does protect. The souls of those who never ran, but at the end, remained instead. Upon stepping into their creaking gate, and the wind that chills your bones, there is still a wandering soul, who never knows where to go." The bard paused, and gave one last minor cord by his lamenting lyre.

"For no one who enters, ever forgets. The lasting fate... of Tida Village."


End file.
